Beyond All Repair
by a.lakewood
Summary: WINCEST - possessed!Sam/Adam, possessed!Sam/Dean, Dean/Adam - multiple kinks. Possessed!Sam makes a pit stop on the way to Bobby's. Now a WIP.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Beyond All Repair [1/?]  
**Author:** alakewood  
**Pairings:** Possessed!Sam/Adam, possessed!Sam/Dean, Dean/Adam  
**Warnings:** Dub-con, underage, breathplay. AU. Spoilers for _Born Under a Bad Sign_ and _Jump the Shark_, general minor ones for seasons one and two.  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Word Count:** 3760+  
**Summary:** Possessed!Sam makes a pit stop on the way to Bobby's.  
**Disclaimer:** As always, I own nothing. And I'm _so_ going to Special Hell.

**oxoxo**

Meg eyed herself in the rearview mirror, twisted a bloody-sweaty strand of Sam's lank hair around her fingers and pushed it out of his hazel eyes before gripping the steering wheel tightly in both hands, feeling the unevenness of the highway vibrate through the Impala. A dusty green, half-illuminated highway sign alerted her to the short matter of miles before she reached her destination. She glanced at the cellular phone she'd abandoned on the passenger's seat, knowing that it was most likely the way Dean had tracked her down in Duluth so quickly and hoped he was on her trail once again.

Meg slowed the Impala as she crossed the Windom city limits. Already having done her homework and knowing exactly where she was going, she wove through familiarly named streets until she was in front of the house with the familiar number. The rumbling of the car's engine ceased and the headlights went dark, plunging the street into silence and dimness.

The curtain of the lone illuminated window on the second floor was pulled back, revealing a shadow, then the curtain quickly fell shut and lights turned on throughout the house as its occupant rushed downstairs until, finally, the porch light blazed on. The front door swung open and a boy, nearly seventeen, crossed the threshold in bare feet and raggedy cut-off sweatpants. "Who're you?" he questioned warily, eying the Impala parked at the curb.

"I, uh, I'm Sam. Winchester," Meg replied, schooling the expression on Sam's face into one of uncertainty and slight trepidation.

"Winchester?" the boy echoed, eyes widening slightly even as the eyebrows above them narrowed.

"Yeah. And I – I think we're brothers."

The boy glanced at the Impala again. "Where's John?"

Meg felt her joy at the answer to that question welling up inside her and warring with the grief it brought out in a barely-cognizant Sam. She coaxed tears to her eyes and looked anywhere but the boy. "He, uh, he died." Meg finally raised Sam's glistening eyes to the boy's face. "This past July." She watched as the kid's hand clutched at the knob on the door, knuckles going white, as his breath left him in a shocked reverse-gasp.

"What?"

"I didn't know about you until recently and...You have a right to know that our dad died."

The boy bit his lip, nodding. "Yeah, um, why don't you come inside...?"

"Sam," Meg supplied, reaching a hand towards John Winchester's youngest son.

"Sam. I'm Adam," the boy replied, taking Sam's hand; Meg held Adam's hand gently and longer than necessary. "Let's- let's go inside."

"Yeah," Meg sighed, holding Adam's gaze and letting it linger, begging trust and acceptance with Sam's stare. Sam's long limbs moved like slow-motion. "Okay."

Adam's eyes stayed locked with Sam's as Sam moved nearer, eclipsed the porch light, pressed closer than recently acquainted brothers should. Blue irises slimmed in the shadow Sam cast, gaze slipping to Sam's mouth as Sam's body heat warmed him, replacing the coolness of the March night. He stepped back enough to let Sam pass and followed his brother inside.

Smile, unseen by Adam, stretching Sam's mouth, Meg knew what she had planned would be easier to put into motion than she'd initially thought, Adam's lack of a father-figure growing up...made him a bit more susceptible to Sam's influence.

**oxo**

Meg filled his head, pressed him into the corners of his mind, shadowy, confined places like the spaces between the walls in that apartment building in Philly, sounds muted like they were filtering through drywall and plaster. Still, Sam was aware of what Meg was planning, caught glimpses of what she was doing when her focus shifted from containing him, and he saw his hands smoothing down the kid's chest, over the ridges of his ribs, his flat belly, coming to rest on the jut of his hip bones. His voice speaking Meg's words echoed in his mind, "_we're brothers,"_ and all he could think was how sick, twisted the things she was doing were. It reminded him of when he was sixteen; knew the look in his eyes now was probably exactly the same as the look in Dean's eyes all those years ago.

Sam's mouth on Adam's, and he could taste the places Meg kissed as she trailed his mouth over his brother's jaw and along his throat. Then his hand was following the same path, thumb pressing firmly on one side of his neck, fingers wrapped around and pressing on the other effectively cutting off blood flow, and Adam was gasping into his mouth as Meg slipped Sam's other hand lower, over the growing bulge in Adam's sweats.

Then Adam stopped moving. But Sam's hands didn't. They worked to rearrange Adam on his bed, limbs spread-eagle, before Meg secured his wrists and ankles to the bedposts.

Images of Dean arriving on that very scene flashed through his and Meg's shared consciousness as she thought through the scenarios. He knew she would try to break Dean by using the brother he was afraid of losing and the one he'd never known, and there was no way he could save either of them from what Meg was planning to do.

Sam finally understood Dean's motives for everything he'd done throughout his life – how he constantly put himself on the line and in danger just for Sam – because Sam was feeling the exact same protectiveness, wanting to keep all of what Meg had devised from happening to his brother.

**oxo**

Dean was thankful that the demon didn't know or understand GPS or cell phone tracking. Sam's cell was still on and Dean was able to follow it's signal across southern Minnesota for nearly five hours. Then again, maybe this demon was a lot smarter than he'd given it credit for and it was leading him somewhere. He had followed it straight to Jo – look how well that had turned out.

Judging by the direction the signal from Sam's phone was going and by the fact that Wandell and Jo were both targets, Dean had deduced that the demon was hunting hunters and that Bobby Singer was now in its crosshairs. But as he checked the GPS location, the signal from Sam's phone had stalled in a small town called Windom. Either the demon had ditched the phone or it was waiting for him. Perhaps there was another hunter nearby that was somehow connected to his father that he didn't know about. So he pulled over to the shoulder of the highway, hazard lights flashing, and pulled out John's journal. He scanned all the entries he didn't already know forwards and backwards and only two mentioned Minnesota. And only one mentioned Windom, specifically, but the pages that followed had been ripped out. There was something or some_one_ there.

The house the cell signal led him to was nice, ordinary, with a well-kept lawn on a tree-lined street in a quiet neighborhood. The Impala was parked along the curb. Obviously, the demon hadn't dumped the phone – otherwise it had left it _and_ the Impala behind.

But Dean didn't slow as he passed, cataloged details of the house with trained vigilance. He parked his stolen car around the corner and made his way across dark backyards and driveways back to the house halfway down the block.

The lock on the back door was standard and Dean picked it and was inside before he'd even really thought about breaking in. The house was quiet and dark save for the hum of the refrigerator and the dim glow of the digital clocks on the stove and microwave. It _looked_ as though the house was empty, but Dean didn't _feel_ like he was alone. He quickly made his way through all the rooms on the first floor before heading upstairs. As he reached the top landing, he heard the muffled squeak of floorboards under carpet somewhere down the hall. He followed the sound.

"I was wondering when you were going to join us," Sam's voice whispered from the darkness beyond an open doorway.

At first, Dean thought the demon was just referring to itself and Sam, then his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room beyond and he saw the figure tied down to the bed. "What the-" Dean began, starting further into the room.

But one of Sam's large hands gripped Dean's arm and held him back. "Tsk tsk," Sam clucked, devious smirk tugging up the corner of his mouth. "Not so fast there, Deano." The hold of Sam's hand changed into a caress, sliding up Dean's arm, fingers trailing over his injured shoulder and down his chest, pausing to touch the amulet dangling from the cord around Dean's neck. "I want to play a game first."

Sam's breath was hot and damp in his ear and Dean felt a shiver of desire roll down his spine. He used his hands to put distance between himself and his brother's body. "No."

"Oh, but it'll be fun. And you'll like it – I promise."

Sam- _the demon_, rather, didn't move closer, but Dean was still within the reach of Sam's hands, and the demon lifted both of them – one moving to the open front of Dean's jacket while the other skimmed across the heated skin of Dean's throat, cool fingers wrapping around the back of his neck. "What are you doing?" Dean demanded, trying to lean away from the touch and failing.

"Nothing you don't want," the demon sighed. Sam's body pressed closer, pressed right up against Dean, pressed Dean right up against the wall. At Dean's confused gaze searching Sam's face, the demon explained. "You're not as subtle with your attraction to your brother as you think. All the looks, the lingering touches; all the times his name was on your lips as you came, jerking off when you thought he was asleep or gone or couldn't hear you. But he did and he knew. Why do you think he was in such a hurry to go off to Stanford, Dean? Hm?"

"Stop." Dean pushed against Sam's muscled chest, tried to force them apart, tried to force his own body to stop reacting to the feel of Sam's flush against him.

"Do you want to know a secret?" Sam's nose bumped against the shell of Dean's ear. "There's a teeny, tiny part of Sam that wants nothing more than for you to fuck him into oblivion. Wants you inside. Wants you to make it hurt." Sam's hips tilted down, thrust up, dick hard against the groove of Dean's hip.

Dean's response was involuntary, a quick jerk of his own half-hard dick against Sam. "Don't do this. _Please_ don't do this," he begged, turning his face away from his brother's, eyes squeezed shut.

Sam's teeth grazed the defined line of tendon in Dean's neck, sharp little nips, then Sam's hot mouth was on his, tongue invading, plundering, until Dean gave in and kissed back, his hands sliding up Sam's back, fingers tangling in greasy, filthy hair.

They were interrupted by a sound from the bed – a creak as weight was shifted – then the rustling of fabric. And Sam's mouth was gone, Sam's hands, his body. Cool air took Sam's shape and clung to Dean's overheated body.

"You're awake," Sam's voice whispered into the darkness, and Dean could hear the smile in it even before his brother's face was turned back towards him. "About that game..."

**oxo**

Adam slowly drifted into awareness, his limbs heavy as though he'd been sleeping for hours. But his room was still dark so he couldn't have been out for that long. Then he remembered hearing the car and Sam – his _brother_ - and what had happened after he'd invited Sam in. News about his father and the brothers he never knew he had. Then _Sam_, all around him. Everything jumbled together, his memories unclear, uncertain, but a yawn suddenly overtook him and he felt the sides of his neck throb as the muscles of his throat contracted to allow him a deep, lung-filling breath and he _knew_. He hadn't dreamed any of it. He made to roll over but found he couldn't move – his arms and legs tied at the wrists and ankles to the headboard and footboard of his bed.

There was movement across the room by his door, the sound of denim on denim and other material rubbing and the wet suction-sound of mouths meeting and quick, shallow breathing. The shadows parted, one moving towards Adam on the bed. "You're awake," Sam whispered to him before turning back towards the shadow still by the door. "About that game..."

"What?" Adam questioned confusedly.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way. It's all up to you, Dean."

Adam's eyes finally adjusted to the darkness in his room, making out the face of the shadow, of the man. He recognized the name – Dean – as his other brother that Sam had mentioned earlier in the night. "What's going on?"

Sam faced him again, eerie smile curling his lips as his eyes flashed obsidian. "Dean's got a choice to make. Either he's gonna fuck you," Sam turned back to Dean, "or I am. And I can tell you right now, I'm not a gentle lover. What's it gonna be, Dean?"

"You can't. Please don't do this. Don't bring this kid into this," Dean pleaded, stepping closer to Sam.

_Don't bring this kid,_ Adam's mind repeated. Dean didn't _know_ Adam was his brother. What kind of sick family had his father raised his brothers into?

"I figured you'd want to keep it in the family," Sam said, crouching beside the bed, hand sliding along the inside of Adam's thigh, then higher. "Meet baby brother, Adam. Dear old Dad had a couple dirty little secrets."

Adam watched Dean's eyes widen and focus on him, distressed gaze swinging back to Sam. "Don't. Don't _do_ this. Whatever you want-"

"This _is_ what I want. So, you or me? Who's it gonna be?"

A shadow crossed Dean's face, something similar to disgust but not, then acceptance. "Me."

"Good," Sam chuckled darkly. "I like to watch."

"Can you at least- Can you untie him?"

Sam turned an open and honest face on Adam, looking as harmless as he had when Adam had first opened the front door to him. "You're not gonna try to run, are you?"

Adam licked his lips, fear making his heart thud in his chest as he recalled the black shine of Sam's eyes moments earlier. He instinctively knew he wouldn't be able to escape, even if he tried. "No."

"Well, all right, then." He made quick work of undoing the knots about Adam's wrists and ankles, letting his fingers caress raw skin and making Adam's stomach lurch in a completely different way that it's previous reaction to his touch.

Once Sam had backed away, moving to sit in the desk chair a few feet from the bed, Dean slowly crossed the room and sat on the mattress. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Adam lied.

"No, it's not. Not at _all._" But Dean's hands moved to his waist anyway, stroking, soothing.

Adam sat up and reached for Dean's jacket, helping him remove it, feeling Dean's heated skin through the thin, over-washed fabric of his t-shirt. It would all be over with soon.

Dean stood, kicked off his boots and shucked his jeans and shirt, then settled himself back on Adam's bed. His hand shook as he splayed it on Adam's lower stomach, slowly slid it lower, fingers stopping at the elastic band of his sweats. "You have lube or lotion handy?" he questioned softly.

"Yeah. In the top drawer," Adam replied, nodding towards the nightstand.

Dean pulled the drawer open and rummaged around inside, finding a small bottle of hand lotion. "Condom?"

Adam's shocked gaze flicked between Sam and Dean, finally settling on his eldest brother. He opened his mouth to reply, feeling heat flood his cheeks and _lower_, but no sound would come out so he just shook his head.

"Okay." Dean's hand finally slipped beneath the waistband of Adam's shorts, fingers finding and curling around his hardening erection.

Adam scooted closer, reached a hand towards Dean's crotch, unsure of what else to do. He cupped Dean's flaccid dick through his boxer-briefs, rubbed it like he would his own until he felt it begin to stiffen under his touch. Their positions were awkward, and he couldn't thrust into Dean's hand like he wanted, couldn't get more friction. He pressed his forehead against Dean's collarbone, felt Dean's other hand slide up to caress his neck. Turned his face just a little more, leaned forward a couple more inches, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Dean's neck.

Dean's hand slipped from his neck to his shoulder and gently shoved him down to the mattress. Adam went, hips lifting to find Dean's hand as his cock was released from its experienced grip. But Dean followed after him, pulled his shorts and underwear down and off and squeezed a small amount of lotion onto a couple of fingers on his left hand. He situated himself astride Adam, his hand bypassing Adam's dick, fingers pressing against his taut opening. "I'm sorry," Dean began to chant into his ear as he eased a finger inside, slowly working it to the first knuckle with little thrusts, then deeper, adding a second finger when Adam relaxed, and a third when Adam had started thrusting back and panting in his ear.

"Please," Adam half-begged, half-whined as Dean's fingers grazed that _spot_, curling, torquing, scissoring inside him. And it felt so _good_, regardless of how wrong he knew it was. Just focused on the feeling.

Dean's fingers slipped free altogether so he could slick himself up with lotion. He moved to kneel between Adam's spread thighs on the bed, lined himself up with his puckered hole and slowly started pressing forward. "Tell me if it hurts and I'll stop."

There was a chuckle beside them and Adam had nearly forgotten about Sam, who was raptly watching them with desire and amusement. "You're so gentle," he laughed. "Just fuck him already. He's practically _begging_ for it. And you _know_ you like it rough. I bet you're a real kinky bastard, aren't you?"

Dean faltered above him, but Adam raised his legs and hooked them behind Dean's back. "It's okay," he breathed, lifting his ass off the mattress and pressing closer to Dean. "Keep going." He slid his hands up Dean's arms, let one linger at his neck as his other dropped to his aching dick. He jerked himself as Dean pressed on, hand faltering and breath hitching when Dean stretched him impossibly wide and kept going until he was full. "Yeah," he said, tilting his hips and Dean's dick buried inside him glanced that spot again. "_Yeah._"

**oxo**

Dean slowly started to move, face buried in Adam's neck. Meg watched as Adam closed his mouth on Dean's shoulder just above the gunshot wound, teeth scraping, dragging as his mouth fell open to breathe deep. Pants and grunts, whimpers and whines, the slapping of flesh on flesh – the sounds of sex filled the small room. She could feel Sam's contrasting revulsion and arousal, reveled in it all knowing what it was doing to these brothers.

Dean was giving in, she could see it in thrust of his hips, deeper, harder, more aggressive. Then his mouth was on Adam's, all tongues and teeth and urgency. Then Dean's hips stuttered and he gasped against Adam's mouth and his body went rigid as he came, Adam's hand a flurry of movement between them as he fisted himself to his own orgasm. Meg watched a moment longer, made sure Sam was seeing the same thing she was, then she quietly left, tucking Sam safely away into the recesses of his mind.

**oxo**

Dean collapsed to Adam's side and realized that Sam was gone. He lay there, trying to catch his breath, trying to fend off the panic and nausea rising inside him. He reached for his clothes, hastily getting dressed, not even bothering to clean himself up or pull on his boots. Then he was gone.

**oxo**

Adam woke to weak sunlight filtering though his curtain as the sun rose. He was sore and confused and had no idea what had happened to him. Pulling himself up into a sitting position, he glanced at his clock. His mother would be home any minute if she wasn't already. He reached for his abandoned underwear and sweats and slowly climbed out of bed, his whole body aching.

"Adam?" his mother called from her room down the hall as he ventured out of his room towards the bathroom.

He quickly ducked into the bathroom, closed the door to a crack. "Yeah?" His voice was rough, didn't sound like his own.

"You okay?"

"Uh, yeah, Mom. Fine." But he wasn't. So far from it he didn't know if he ever would be again. He closed the door dropped his clothes on the floor and climbed into the shower. He washed away what he could, but physical vestiges of the night remained – rope-burn red on his wrists and ankles, bruises blooming dark beneath the skin of his hips where Dean's hands had gripped him too tight.

Rope-burn and bruises would fade with time, as would the soreness in his muscles and deeper. But the memories would always remain. He couldn't rinse those down the drain, time wouldn't heal them.

Fucked up. Everything was fucked up. He thought back to a phrase he'd learned from his father one of the last times he'd seen him. _FUBAR_ And that was exactly what he was. Fucked up beyond all repair.

Unfixable.

Broken. By the brothers he'd always wanted but never thought he'd have.

Be careful what you wish for, came the unbidden adage, manic laughter rising in his chest. _Because it just might fuck you up. Literally,_ he thought, finishing the quote.

Fubar. And he'd never really know why.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: Beyond All Repair [2/?]  
**Author**: alakewood  
**Warnings**: AU. Spoilers for _Jump the Shark_, _Pilot_, and _Nightshifter._ Vague mentions of slash.  
**Rating**: PG-13  
**Word** **Count**: ~1250  
**Summary**: Just like physics, every action a person makes has an equal and opposite reaction. There's fallout from what Meg set into motion.  
**Disclaimer**: As always, I own nothing.

**oxoxo**

Before Meg had evacuated Sam's body, she went out of her way to leave Sam with a few of her own memories, wanted to make sure he'd remember what she'd made him do. It took a while for the jumbled scenes and images to make sense, but comprehension set in as soon as he looked over at his brother, sprawled out on Bobby's living room floor four feet to his right, and Dean wouldn't meet his gaze. "It wasn't- It was lies, Dean." Sam sounded as though he were trying to convince himself of that just as much as he was Dean.

"Don't." Just one word, but Sam could hear the hollowness in his voice.

"Dean."

Bobby had surveyed the scene then and left the room, giving Sam and Dean the privacy they'd need for whatever discussion or fight was to come.

Sam was silent for a long time, save for his labored breathing as his memories caught up to him at a speeding pace. He tried to scramble to his feet but his limbs were sluggish and heavy and he only succeeded in climbing to his knees. "Adam. We have to-"

"Sammy, no." Dean's eyes flashed to his, a warning and something else there.

"I have to-"

"You _don't_. Dad kept us away from him for a reason. The kid's gonna be fucked up enough as it is without you going in trying to apologize or explain that you were _possessed_ by a _demon_. Because even _if_ he believes you, it's not what Dad wanted for him. He'll- he'll forget about what happened. Suppress it or something."

"But Dean-"

"_Goddammit, Sam!_ We're not going back there."

And that was the end of it.

Over the month and a half that followed, Sam dealt with what had happened in the tried-and-true Winchester way: self-medicated with alcohol and by killing anything he was allowed to. It was probably his nearly-constant drunken haze that was responsible for him getting so easily snatched by Azazel or his henchmen. And, once he was sober, he really didn't care what happened to him anymore – everything he touched went to Hell, he might as well let himself go, too.

**oxo**

It was a decision Dean would make a hundred- no, a _thousand_ times over. His life for Sam's...there was no need for second-guessing – it was a fair trade. If he'd had more to offer, he'd have given everything. Probably would've made the same deal his father made. A year seemed generous after all the horrible things he'd done.

But Sam didn't see it that way. Dean's choice made what had once been a narrow fissure between them seem like an immense gulf. It made Sam angry, bitter, and resentful. Dean, in turn, was reckless and oddly relieved. It was almost _over._ The only regret he'd have was leaving Sam _alone._

The tension between them made it impossible for them to hunt together and, as much as Dean didn't want to, he told Sam that they needed to go their separate ways – at least for a little while, just so they could figure things out for themselves. So he dropped Sam off at Bobby's and started driving. No matter where he meant to go, he always found himself back in Windom. Like a needle on a compass where his youngest brother was his due north, Dean could do nothing but obey the magnetism.

**oxo**

Adam spent his entire summer obsessing about Dean and what Sam's black eyes meant. The more he though about Dean, the angrier he became – partly for the fact that what they'd done wasn't something he'd had a choice in and partly because it was so _good_, so _right_, and it disgusted him almost as much as he wanted it to happen again. But mostly he was pissed because Dean had simply left and hadn't tried to contact him since.

He tried to remember as much about his father as he could, ended up Googling his name and Dean's and Sam's. Sam's brought up pages from Stanford University about academic achievement and online news stories about an apartment fire in which a girl died. Dean's name was mentioned in connection to a bank robbery in Milwaukee in which he was the prime suspect – something that garnered him a spot on the FBI's most-wanted list.

But John's name didn't bring up anything helpful that pertained to his father. It was then that he recalled the only story he'd ever gotten when he asked how his parents met – John had been in town on business and ended up in the ER. After what Adam knew about Dean and Sam, he doubted his father was in town on business as a _mechanic_. He went to the library to hunt through newspaper articles on microfiche to see if he could find anything interesting from the end of 1989 through January of 1990 – a car show or some kind of mechanics convention. But the only interesting story from that time was about a rash of grave robberies and desecrations. There was one photo however that caught his attention in particular. The image wasn't completely in focus and the contrast was too light, but Adam was certain his father was in it.

**oxo**

There are things that, as a mother, you should notice right away in your child but, for Kate Milligan, she rarely saw her only son and didn't notice the change in his behavior. Just took the mood swings and attitude she caught the briefest glimpses of for the norm of boys his age. But there was so much more to it than typical rebellion – a darkness that dimmed the happiness her son had once shone with. Her job as a nurse working the overnight shift made it nearly impossible to see Adam, catch up with him, or have more than a brief conversation with him on weekends.

It took a phone call from the school guidance counselor to get her to really _look_ at her son. It was the beginning of his senior year and his grades were dropping fast – if he didn't 'put his nose to the grindstone,' as the counselor put it, he was at risk of losing his full-ride to UW and quite a few of his scholarships. Between his grades and his attitude, the counselor was concerned. So Kate made an appointment for Friday morning, left Adam a note letting him know she'd take him to school herself.

In the car that Friday, Adam was sullen and uncommunicative – the polar opposite of the image of the vibrant son Kate pictured when she thought of him. Something had changed, but when she questioned him, pressed the subject, he insisted he was fine, the same as always. But he wasn't 'fine' and, as a mother, at least she saw that.

"I think I'm going to call John," she told him when he came home from school later that day. "Maybe he can help you since it's pretty obvious you won't take it from me."

"John's dead," he blurted, not a single hint of regret in his cool blue eyes.

Kate turned to her son, knowing she hadn't heard him right. "What?"

"He's dead."

To say she was shocked would've been a gross misunderstatement. "No. He's not. How do you know that? Who told you that?"

"My brothers," was all he replied before slamming out of the house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: Beyond All Repair [3/?]  
**Author**: alakewood  
**Warnings**: Wincest. Drug use. Non-con. A little D/S.  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Word** C**ount**: ~2230  
**Summary**: Dean's in Windom and Adam finds out.  
**Disclaimer**: As always, I own nothing.

**oxoxo**

It took Kate a few days to finally work up the courage to dial John's cell number. She didn't want to believe what her son had told her. More than just the fact that his father was dead, but also that he had brothers that, not only had John never mentioned, but that showed up out of the blue to drop such a life-shattering bomb on her son. It was no wonder that Adam had started doing so poorly in school and had taken up such an attitude. She couldn't blame him, just wished he'd come to her about it when it had happened instead of holding his anger and sadness in like he had.

The line rang and rang and went to voicemail. "This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean-"

Kate's heart stopped in that moment. That much of what Adam had told her hadn't been a lie. Could John really be dead? It took a second listen to the message for her to get the number and she hastily scrawled it at the bottom of the grocery list hanging on the fridge. She'd dialed the number, even pressed 'Send,' but hung up as the line started ringing. She couldn't do this yet. Her nerves were too shot. Later. She'd call later.

**oxo**

Dean dragged himself back to his motel room, a couple block's walk from the bar, kicking his boots off and peeling out of his jacket as soon as he was in the door. He pulled his cell from the inside pocket to do his nightly check, hoping Sam had called, but knowing his younger brother was too stubborn to be the one to make the first attempt at contact after Dean dumped him at Bobby's at the beginning of the summer.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, thumbing the power button on his cell with the other as he crossed the small room to the bed. He all but collapsed on the edge of the mattress and waited for the phone to come on. He was surprised to see that he had a missed call and a voicemail message. He _knew_ it couldn't be Sam, but that didn't mean it wasn't _about_ Sam. Maybe something had happened and Bobby...

But the number that had called wasn't familiar as one of Bobby's and that somewhat eased the panic that was burning through the alcohol-fog in his mind. When he retrieved the voicemail, his fear swelled anew. "Dean?" questioned a soft, uncertain female voice. "This is Kate Milligan – I know you don't know me but I think you've already met my son. Your...your brother." It sent his heart racing at a speed that rivaled the spinning of thoughts in his mind. She asked after his father, wanted to know if John was really dead and, if he was, how he could just drop a bomb like that on Adam and expect him to be okay. Adam's not doing well and she wants him to fix it. But how the _hell_ is he supposed to do that?

**oxo**

Adam was on his knees, hands held forcibly behind his back, his face shoved into the mattress as Dean pounded into him from behind. Hard, fast, and rough, taking what he wanted even though he knew it hurt Adam. But this wasn't _about_ Adam, this was about Dean and what he needed. No preparation, no gentle touches – just a good, _so good_, rough fuck.

He kept pleading with his eldest brother, "Please, stop," but that seemed to make Dean more aggressive, the pistoning of his hips verging on vicious.

Adam's hand curled around his achingly hard dick and he fisted it once, twice, and, coming all over his hand and sheets, finally opened his eyes. It was so twisted to fantasize about Dean in such a way, he knew that, but he didn't feel even fleeting remorse as he reached for his discarded underwear from the foot of his bed to wipe himself clean. No, not anymore. In the place where it once weighed heavily in his chest burned an anger only comparable to the one he'd had against his father.

He tossed his dirtied underwear towards the pile of clothes in front of his closet and glanced at his alarm clock. If he hurried, he could still make it to school.

**oxo**

Dean kept himself locked away in his motel room for a few days after listening to Kate's message, too afraid to venture out and get recognized by his half-brother or his mother without knowing what he would say to either of them. But he eventually did man-up and head out, his need to make sure his youngest brother was okay stronger than his fear of actually having to face him.

So Dean climbed into the Impala and headed across town to cruise past Adam's home before a passing school bus reminded him it was a school day. Anxiety fluttered in his chest as he braked for a stop sign at the end of the block, the bus stopped at the curb just down the street. Adam was easy to pick out amongst the few kids that file out – there's something of Sam in the way he held himself, the hunch of his shoulders and bow of his head as though he's making every effort to make his tall frame seem shorter.

It took a minute for Dean to snap out of his daze at seeing Adam again for the first time in months, desire suddenly surging through his veins. But he recovered before Adam had a chance to turn around and see him. Their reunion was nearly inevitable at that point, still Dean wasn't ready for it just yet.

**oxo**

A familiar throaty rumble of a well-tuned engine made Adam turn around and he just barely caught a glimpse of sleek black paint and chrome as the tail-end of the Impala - _had_ to be the Impala – disappeared around the corner of Mrs. Olsen's hedge-lined yard. His heart faltered in that moment, hoping against all hope that Dean was back for him, that it wasn't Sam. Regardless, he felt a little flare of heat low in his belly as he recalled his dream from that morning.

His pulse quickened and he blindly reached a hand out to his friend Danny's shoulder. "I'll see you later, Dan, okay?" he said, gaze still focused on Mrs. Olsen's bushes. He didn't wait to hear Danny's response, just started off down the sidewalk towards his house. If Dean was in Windom...

It wasn't until later that night while he was hanging out at Danny's, both of them completely stoned, that the idea came to him. There weren't many hotels in town and the Impala would prove to be easy to find in their small parking lots. Danny kicked at Adam's sneakered foot with the toe of his shoe. "Dude, what's up? You're, like, _quiet_ and it's freaking me out."

Adam rolled his head to the side to look at his friend as he passed the joint back and laughed. "Sorry. Just thinking."

"No shit, man. Where were you?"

Adam ignored the question and asked one of his own. "Can you teach me how to pick a lock?" Danny was pretty well-known for getting into places he shouldn't.

"What? Why?"

Adam made a face, half smirk, half frown, as he shook his head. "Just curious, man. So, will you?"

Danny hesitated for just a moment. "Sure. Why the hell not?" And Danny led him upstairs and showed him on his parents' front door. "See, not all that difficult. Some are harder, but..." He shrugged.

"Cool. Thanks. So, hey, can I borrow your car?"

Danny stared at him for a long moment then. "Adam, dude. I don't know. I'm not gonna be an...an accessory to whatever you're planning on doing. 'Sides, I think your mom'd kill me if you got pulled over driving my car and got picked up for being stone off your _ass._"

"Dude," Adam said, slightly offended, standing up to his full height, straightening out his shoulder. "I'm totally cool."

Danny sighed and dug his car keys out of his pocket. "You get picked up, I'm telling the cops you _stole_ it. And I don't want to know where you're going or what you're doing."

Adam snatched the keys from Danny's loose grip. "Deal. I'll have it back to you by tomorrow." He disappeared out the still-open front door and headed for Danny's car.

It didn't take long to track down the Impala, parked in the unpaved lot of the crappiest motel in town. Adam pulled Danny's rusted Buick into a space outside the motel office and headed inside, bells on the door jingling loudly as they rattled against the glass. The man behind the desk looked up from the crappy little TV tuned into some staticky police drama rerun. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah," Adam said, leaning on the counter. "I'm looking for somebody." He then proceeded to give the old man Dean's description, told him the truth when the old man looked wary. "He's my brother. I just want to know what room he's in."

The wariness in the old man's gaze turned to disbelief as though he could read Adam's deviant thoughts of what he wanted to do once inside his brother's room, but the disbelief gave way to something like acceptance and he looked down at the log book in front of him. "Number nine."

**oxo**

Dean faintly heard the tick of metal on metal, lock _snick_ing open, but his body was too leaden to move. It wasn't until the floorboards right beside the bed creaked under the weight of his intruder that he realized he was no longer alone in his room. The alcohol in his system made him slow to react, found himself being hauled out of bed and he tried to fight back. It reminded him of the night he went to Sam in Palo Alto.

In the red-blue flashing neon light from the sign outside his window, Dean recognized the man as Adam, felt his body begin to react to the possibilities before his mind told him he couldn't do this to Adam again - that he needed to _fix_ it all, not fuck it up more.

This wasn't a scenario that Dean had planned for, his drunken haze making it nearly impossible to even start figuring out what to do next. As much as it harkened back to that night in Sam's apartment a lifetime ago, he knew there wasn't going to be some kind of _brotherly_ scuffle for dominance – wanted to end the struggle before it started, knowing there was only one way it would end and he just couldn't do that to Adam no matter how much that dark place buried deep inside of him yearned for it.

He pushed Adam away, forced his arms between them minutes later than he should have. "What are you doing here?"

"Was gonna ask you the same thing," Adam told him, effortlessly crossing the short distance between them and spinning Dean around, the motion and Dean's unbalanced weight dragging them down to the filthy floor. But Adam corrected for it as the fell, turned them midair so they landed with Dean pressed face-down with Adam settled heavily on his back.

"Your mom called – must've gotten my number from one of Dad's old phones – left me a message. She's worried about you, can tell there's something wrong. She thinks it's just because Dad died and that we just dropped it on you."

"And it's got nothing to do with the fact that I was forced to have sex with my brother."

Dean was surprised to hear him say it so bluntly, then he caught a whiff of the pungent smell of pot. "I'm sorry."

**oxo**

Adam scoffed from his position against Dean's back, pressed his hips down against Dean's ass. "Don't be."

"I know you don't want this. You don't have to do this." But he raised his hips to meet the slight downward thrust of Adam's nevertheless.

"I'm gonna be in control this time. Not Sam. Not you. _Me,_" Adam breathed into Dean's ear. From that close, he could see the creases across Dean's cheek as though he'd passed out on crumpled paper as opposed to a pillow. Judging by the quality of the carpet beneath them and the few rickety pieces of furniture he could see from their position, he doubted the bedclothes were very high thread-count anyway.

"Adam." Dean felt the strain of the tendons in his neck, the burn of the muscles in his shoulders, but still arched his back as Adam's mouth closed on the place they met.

Adam's mouth opened, baring teeth that scraped and bit, sunk into soft flesh. He let go, moved his lips back to Dean's ear, let his tongue trace the whorls. "This is gonna be so good," he breathed hotly before claiming Dean's mouth in a lustful, depraved kiss. He thrust down against Dean again, felt his brother squirm and press back against him. "_So good._"


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**: Beyond All Repair [4/?]  
**Author:** alakewood  
**Warnings**: Wincest. AU. Non(-ish)-con. Dirty talk. Does the porn go without saying? D/S (submissive!Dean). And a kind of dark!Adam.  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Word** **Count**: 1800+  
**Summary**: Adam finally gives Dean what's been coming to him.  
**Disclaimer**: As always, I own nothing.

**oxoxo**

"I've been praying for this moment for months," Adam breathed, moving so his knees were astride Dean's hips, so he could tightly hold Dean's wrists at the small of his back with his left hand and weave the fingers of his right through his brother's sweaty hair. He gave a tug, lifting Dean's face from the floor. "Always thought the positions would be reversed though." He tilted his pelvis backward and rolled his hips forward, hard dick finding the groove of Dean's ass.

Dean bowed his back, trying to ease the pain in his shoulders and neck from the way Adam was restraining him. Couldn't ignore the spark of lust that flared low in his belly at being handled so possessively. Couldn't bite back the moan the sensory near-overload elicited from him.

He'd been punishing himself all summer for what Meg made him do and how much it had aroused him – no matter how much he tried to deny it. Never knew how good letting Adam retaliate in his own way could be.

Using his knees as leverage, he bucked back against Adam. "Come on," he gritted out through clenched teeth, body stuck rigid. "Fuck me already." Adam stilled above him, fingers going slack in his hair, his loosened grip causing Dean's upper body to pitch forward. "It's what you want, isn't it?" It seemed that, with Dean suddenly willing, Adam was unsure what his next move was.

**oxo**

Dean gave another little roll of his hips and Adam pushed back, bit at his lip as he tried to recall how his latest fantasy went. It always started differently: Dean would jump him on his way home from school, Dean would break into the house when his mother was long gone to work, Dean would catch him off guard outside the library in the dark – but it always ended up with Adam on his hands and knees begging for the pain to stop, for _Dean_ to stop.

So Adam started there, rose to his knees and, with more strength than he thought he could muster, grabbed a hold of the back of Dean's boxer-briefs and hauled him up. Brought his hand up and landed it with a loud _crack_ on Dean's ass, startling them both and drawing a hiss out of Dean which made Adam's already painfully hard dick twitch and throb. He hastily flicked open the button on his jeans and tugged down the zipper to free some of the pressure, shoved his hand into his underwear and pulled himself out.

"Yeah," he sighed, giving himself a slow stroke, coating his cock with the precome that leaked from its tip. Trusting Dean to not move, he released his grip on Dean's hands to pull at the elastic band of his boxer-briefs, dragging them down to expose Dean's ass. Used his slick thumb to press against the tight pucker, breached it and pressed further until Dean tensed and shied away. Adam responded by removing his thumb and sticking his right index finger in his mouth, thoroughly covering the digit with saliva before thrusting it into Dean's tight hole all the way up to the second knuckle.

"_Fuck,_" Dean cursed, thighs shaking, muscles inside fluttering around around Adam's finger.

Adam leaned down and spat on the place his finger disappeared inside his brother's body, pulled it out just enough to give it a little more lubrication and slid it back in again. Out and in, out, in; kept a slow pace until his whole finger fit inside. He turned his wrist and crooked his finger and Dean moaned, pressed back against the intrusion. "You like that? You like when I..." He twisted his finger again.

"Mm, yeah, yeah," Dean panted, head dangling between his arms, muscles flexing as he braced himself to press back again.

"Want more?"

Dean's breathing hitched and he lifted his head enough to look at Adam over his shoulder. "Yeah. More."

Adam pulled his finger out again, slid the palms of his hand over the cheeks of Dean's ass before spreading them open and lining his cock up with the still-tight pucker. Watched every muscle in his brother's body that he could see shudder and tense, from the toned expanse of shoulders that tapered somewhat to a trim waist to his lean flanks. Using one hand to keep Dean's cheeks spread apart, he used the other to help guide himself inside and push past the resistance. "Fuck, you're so tight," he groaned just as Dean began to protest beneath him.

"Stop, please, _fuck_, it _hurts._" Dean's breath came in short gasps and Adam could see his rib cage expand with the quick intakes of air.

"Can't. 's too good." The head of his dick was completely inside and he steadily pressed on, felt the burning heat of Dean's inner flesh as it stretched to accommodate him. Moved both hands to Dean's hips to pull his brother's body back as he pushed his pelvis forward.

"Fuck," Dean spat out again. "Stop, Adam, you gotta stop."

There was so much _friction_ Adam almost couldn't pull out once he was all the way in. Had to push Dean off his dick, pull him back down. Couldn't thrust until he felt something give, felt something _tear_, felt slick heat around him, just enough to make moving easier. Dean was bleeding and fuck if that didn't make it hotter.

"Adam," Dean all but begged.

"I didn't have much of a choice and you don't, either," Adam told him, smoothing a comforting hand down Dean's spine. "Trust me, it'll get better." Of course, he didn't know that for sure – Dean hadn't exactly _forced_ himself inside Adam, had carefully worked him open much to Sam's agitation.

It took a while for Dean's stock-stillness to soften, his body becoming a bit more pliable under Adam's uneven rhythm, as hole loosened, relaxed, finally grew accustomed to Adam's cock. It still hurt like hell, but every so often Adam would press in at just such an angle to hit that _spot_ - the one he'd found with his finger – and pleasure would briefly eclipse pain. Dean tilted his hips back and - "Fuck, _yes._" Adam was hitting his prostate with every thrust.

Dean was moving with him now, needy little grunts issuing from his mouth. With his left hand curled possessively around Dean's hip, he slid his right around Dean's other side, over his fluttering abs and lower, fingers finally wrapping around Dean's flagged erection and quickly stroked it back to the full hardness it had been when they'd first started their game. "So good, Dean. So fucking tight."

"_God._ Shit, yeah. Right-right there."

"I'm so close," Adam breathed, dropping his forehead to Dean's shoulder as he stilled his hips. "Gonna come."

Dean pressed his hips back and up into Adam's hips. "Then what the fuck are you waiting for?"

Adam suddenly remembered that _he_ was the one in charge this time, he didn't have to ask for permission. With a quick nip to Dean's neck, he went back to thrusting, hard, deep snaps of his hips until he was close, closer, almost there. A few more twisting strokes of his hand on Dean's cock and a couple well-angled thrusts and Dean was coming in his hand, coming apart beneath him in a strangled cry of Adam's name. It was enough to send Adam hurdling towards his own orgasm and he burst through it, coming hard and hot inside his brother.

**oxo**

Dean felt Adam come inside him, the hot sting; felt his youngest brother's spent cock slip free as they both collapsed to the filthy floor, Dean's come a new addition to the many stains. Adam pressed a wet, open-mouthed kiss to his neck, smooth hands sliding over Dean's hip to grasp and pull, turned Dean over. Adam's left leg hooked over Dean's, his softening dick pressing against Dean's thigh as his mouth found Dean's, a surprisingly chaste kiss. Dean's hand slid, nearly of its own accord, over Adam's t-shirt covered chest, up his neck, palm fitting to Adam's jaw as he slipped his tongue past Adam's lips, lazily fucked Adam's mouth with it.

Finally, Adam pulled back, leaned up on his arm and looked down at Dean with a half-lidded gaze. "So."

"So," Dean echoed, not sure what proper conversational protocol was for their situation. Suddenly feeling awkward and seriously underdressed, he climbed to his feet and reached down to pull his underwear back up.

"How long you been in town?" Adam asked, tucking himself back away inside his jeans.

"A while."

"How long you gonna stay?"

"A few more days, maybe." He wasn't sure. Knew he should leave, knew there were jobs that needed taken care of, things that needed killed. But leaving Adam...Dean didn't know if he could just yet.

Adam nodded, reached for the keys to Danny's borrowed car in his pocket. "Yeah. Well."

"Do you think- Should I stop by to talk to your mom about-about Dad?"

Adam shrugged, obviously just as uncertain of their situation as Dean. "Maybe."

Dean was suddenly stuck with the image of a woman he'd never met nicely asking him to stay for dinner and setting him down beside Adam at the table and having to force himself to behave like he'd never _fucked his brother._ "Yeah, okay."

"Okay. I should..." Adam hooked his thumb towards the door. His eyes met and held Dean's, then darted to the small table, the TV, the bed, anything but Dean.

"Uh, yeah." Dean moved past Adam, turned sideways to keep from touching, and opened the door.

"Okay. I guess I'll-I'll see you." Adam started for the door, was just moving across the threshold when Dean's hand gripped his wrist and stopped him in his tracks.

Dean held tight, felt fragile bones and taut ligaments tensing beneath his fingers. With silence forced Adam to look him in he eye and studied his face for a long moment, making up his mind and closing the distance between them and claiming Adam's mouth once more. Dean looked at him pointedly. "I'll call. I'll see you again before I leave."

"Yeah, okay." But Adam didn't look or sound like he believed him – not like their father was much for keeping his word, either. There wasn't much Dean could do about that, not really _anything_, so he just watched Adam go and closed the door on his brother's retreating back before Adam could turn around and catch him.

It was all fucked up, shouldn't have happened. But, now that he'd crossed that line, he wasn't sure he ever wanted to go back.


	5. Chapter 5

**Title**: Beyond All Repair [5/?]  
**Author**: alakewood  
**Warnings**: Wincest. Spoilers for _Jump the Shark._  
**Rating**: R  
**Word Count**: ~1900  
**Summary**: That awkward family dinner that Dean had briefly imagined becomes a reality. His and Adam's dessert is a little unconventional and it gets interrupted before they get to the really good part.  
**Disclaimer**: As always, I own nothing.

**oxoxo**

Adam saw the Impala parked in front of his house as the school bus rounded the corner of his block and he was out of his seat before the bus had come to a complete stop, the slight depression that had slowly been building over the weekend evaporating. He ignored the driver's lecture as he bounded down the stairs and outside, forcing himself not to break into a sprint. He hadn't seen or heard from Dean since Friday. Nearly three whole days. It wasn't the _call_ he'd all but promised, but it would do.

He dropped his backpack inside the front door when he entered the house. "Mom? I'm home." His words came out in a rush; it was hard to hide the excitement he felt.

"We're in the kitchen."

Adam took a steadying breath and headed down the hall. His mother and Dean were sitting across from each other at the small table in the middle of the kitchen. "Hey," he said with a nod towards Dean, trying his damnedest to appear nonchalant.

"Hey," Dean said back, muscles in his jaw twitching as his gaze slid from Adam to Kate.

"So...what's going on?"

"Your- your _brother_ and I were just discussing your attitude towards school." She made a face, eyebrows arching slightly, and shook her head. "Your attitude in general, really."

"Wasn't right what me and Sam did – unloading what happened to Dad on you like that. I'm sorry."

Adam shrugged, took the chair nearest where he stood. "Yeah, it did suck." But they both knew his behavior wasn't due to the sudden news of John's death. Not entirely, anyway.

Kate pushed her chair back from the table but didn't stand. "I'm gonna give you boys some time. Let you...catch up." She reached a hand towards Adam, squeezed his forearm reassuringly. "I'll be in the living room." She stood then, pushed her chair in, and turned towards Dean. "You're more than welcome to stay for dinner if you'd like."

Adam carefully watched Dean's reaction – his eyes briefly flitted towards Adam before he met Kate's gaze and aimed a charming grin at her. "Thanks, Ms. Milligan. I would like that a lot."

Kate beamed back. "Okay, then. And, please: call me Kate."

Adam waited until his mother disappeared from the room before moving to take her abandoned chair. "So much for calling, huh?"

"I _did_ call," Dean said, keeping his voice quiet, eyes still focused on the doorway through which Kate had gone. "You weren't home. Talked to your mom instead."

"Yeah. Her shifts are all screwy now. She switched her hours so she can spend more time with me."

"That's what she was telling me. So, what's going on with you and school? She said you've got a scholarship to the University of Wisconsin that you could lose if you don't get your grades up."

"Seriously? Are we seriously going to talk about this?"

"What would you rather talk about? Keep in mind that your mother's only, what? Twenty, maybe thirty, feet away?"

Adam bit at his bottom lip. "She'll be gone right after dinner. You plan on staying?"

"For dinner?" Dean's eyebrows drew together in slight confusion as though he weren't completely sure where Adam was going with his question.

"After."

"What?"

"You tell me you'll stay, I'll tell you all about school."

**oxo**

Dinner wasn't as awkward as Dean had thought it would be – it was strange, but he'd been expecting that considering he couldn't ever remember having a real sit-down family dinner with anyone (rushed meals at greasy spoons and diners across the continental U.S. with his father and Sam didn't count), but it wasn't awkward. Kate asked him about his job and he told her about being a mechanic like his father. She eyed him suspiciously like she knew he was lying, like she knew what his father _really_ had done for a living, but she didn't call him on it, probably because Adam was sitting right there.

Adam. His brother was a complete distraction. It wasn't so much what he was doing as it was that he was so near. Just two feet across the table. He'd catch Dean's eye and smirk as though he knew Dean was uncomfortable and bearing his mother's scrutiny only for him.

But it wasn't long before Kate had to head off to work. With a muttered, "Shoot," she pushed back from the table, setting her fork and knife across her plate as she stood. She dropped a kiss to the top of Adam's head, and it was Dean's chance to smirk, watching Adam turn a deep shade of pink with his embarrassment. "You can take care of the dishes, yes?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Good. Have a good night, boys. And Dean? It'd be nice to see you again before you leave."

"Of course, ma'am- sorry, _Kate._ And thanks again for dinner."

"You're welcome."

They both sat silently, listening for the sound of her car starting in the garage, and waited until it faded into nothing as she drove away before they got up from the table. "So..." Adam began, collecting empty dishes, gaze alternating between Dean's face and the growing stack of plates and platters in his hands.

"So," Dean echoed, picking up their three glasses in one hand and the last few dishes in the other before following Adam to the sink. He leaned back against the counter as his brother made quick work rinsing everything off and loading it into the dishwasher.

"Why is this suddenly so..." Adam began in a rush, turning towards Dean, not quite able to find the right word for what he was feeling.

"Weird? Crazy? Hard?" Dean supplied, crossing his arms over his chest. He shook his head. "What are we doing? I mean, _really_?"

Adam took up a similar position beside him, glanced at him sideways. "What _do_ you mean?"

"We're brothers. What we're doing is a million different kinds of fucked up."

"Just 'cause we have the same dad doesn't make us brothers. Yeah, _technically_ we are, but...I mean. I don't _feel_ like your brother, you know? I feel a lot of other things when I'm around you, but that's just not one of 'em."

"I get that, I do, but..."

Adam shook his head - they were doing way too much thinking about their situation, especially when he just _wanted_, and wanted to enjoy it. He closed the short distance between them and closed his mouth over Dean's, easily finding the right angle, his hands moving to unfold Dean's arms between their chests. "Neither time we've done this has it been just us," he said, pulling away slightly to gauge Dean's reaction to the kiss. "First, it was...well, you know what it was. Then, this last time, you were drunk and I was high. Let's just..."

Dean licked his bottom lip before drawing it between his teeth to worry at the chapped skin. "Yeah. Okay." His hands found their way to Adam's hips and he let Adam's mouth find its way back to his.

Adam pressed Dean up against the counter, slotted their hips together in a way that was becoming increasingly familiar for how few times it had happened. He hooked his fingers into Dean's belt loops and tugged. "Let's go upstairs," he suggested, as he started backwards, mouth slipping down Dean's jaw, nipping and sucking at the lightly stubbled skin high on his throat.

They stood in the middle of the kitchen for countless minutes, harsh sounds of their breathing, all their gasps and pants as hands pressed and pulled, barely louder than the whirring of the dishwasher. One of Dean's hands slid up Adam's spine and over the back of his neck, fingers slipping through the short, fine hairs at Adam's nape, mouth dropping open on a soundless moan as Adam gently thrust the hard, denim-covered bulge of his dick against Dean's. "That- that's good."

Adam's teeth caught and tugged at Dean's bottom lip, rocking his hips up into Dean's again and drawing a real moan from his brother this time. "Come on. Upstairs."

They were in the hall, halfway to the staircase, when the front door burst open. "Dude, whose sweet-ass car is outside?"

Adam tore himself away from Dean, eyes wide, as he turned towards the end of the hall. "Danny. Ever heard of knocking? What the hell are you doing here?" He glanced back at Dean, mouthing, "Sorry."

"What?" Danny asked, finally rounding the corner. He caught sight of Adam, red-faced and bruised-mouthed, and Dean in a similar state behind him. "Uh, hey. Didn't know you had company."

"Yeah. This isn't, um," he scratched at the back of his neck, "it's not the best time." He walked to where Danny stood stock-still, ushered him towards the door.

Danny chanced a look back at Dean before following Adam out the front door. "Are you, uh...Are you...?"

Adam closed the door slightly. "I'll see you at school tomorrow?"

"Uh, yeah. School. Tomorrow." He started down the front steps.

"We're cool, right?"

Danny paused and turned back towards Adam. "Yeah. Totally. I just, um. Yeah. Didn't expect...that. I'll, uh, I'll knock next time. Definitely. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah. Later." Adam watched Danny climb into his Buick and watched him pull away before heading back inside and locking the door behind him. Dean was sitting on the stairs when he turned back around. "Sorry about that."

"It's not your fault." He crossed his arms again, elbows on his knees.

Adam recognized the pose for what it was. "I know what you're thinking. And it won't happen again."

"_This_ shouldn't happen again."

Adam crossed the the foyer in a few quick steps, knelt between Dean's knees on a stair a couple below the one on which he sat. "Look, Danny's got a thing about not knowing boundaries. He does shit like that sometimes. I had no idea he'd be dropping by. Nobody else would've just walked in like that."

"Your mother-"

"She's at work, Dean. We're in the clear."

Dean shook his head. "Still."

"I want this. Want _you._ And I know you want it, too." He trailed his fingers up the sides of Dean's calves, slid palms along the outside of Dean's thighs. "_Please?_"

Dean uncrossed his arms, let his thighs fall open wider even though he _knew_ it would all be over if he could just say 'no.' But he couldn't. Not when Adam was looking at him with such heat in his eyes.

"I'll force myself on you again if I have to. Might get a little awkward here on the stairs..." He closed his mouth over Dean's in a near-brutal kiss, pressing his still-hard dick against Dean's flagging erection. "C'mon. Want you to fuck me."

Suddenly, the hot pressure that was Adam's body and mouth and hands against Dean and all along his skin disappeared as Adam stood and slipped past him on the stairs. For all his talk about wanting to stop what they were doing, Dean didn't hesitate as he climbed to his feet and followed Adam up to his bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Beyond All Repair [6/?]  
**Author****:** alakewood  
**Warning:** Dean/Adam Wincest. PWP.  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Word Count:** ~1000  
**Summary:** Dean and Adam haven't been together without something else factoring in. This time, it's just them and Adam knows exactly what he wants and how he wants it.  
**Disclaimer:** As always, I own nothing.  
**A/N:** Sorry for such the long wait, guys! I've been so stuck with this fic (as well a a few others) and the inspiration to write more just wasn't there. Still, there's not much plot progression here - just a lot of porn. When in doubt, write porn, right?

**oxoxo**

Adam pushed at Dean until he backed off, fingers slipping free of his ass roughly. He shoved his pillows off the bed as he climbed to his hands and knees, stance wide as he presented himself to his brother. "C'mon, Dean. Please."

Dean bit at his lip, hands going to Adam's hips. He leaned forward, thumbs pressing into the skin of Adam's ass to gently pull his cheeks apart, swept the flat of his tongue over his brother's reddened, worked-open hole. He tasted musk and sweat, curled the tip of his tongue into the tight pucker and made Adam moan and rock back against his mouth.

"_Fuck._ Come _on._" Adam's voice was strained, tinged with desperation and lust.

"Yeah." Dean rose to his knees, moved between Adam's legs, and took his own cock in hand, slowly pressing himself into Adam's hole. There was so much friction.

Adam arched his back, tilted his hips, tried to find an angle that lessened the burning stretch of Dean entering him. But nothing eased the pain. He bit at his lip until he tasted the copper tang of blood, dropped his head to his now-folded arms on the mattress, and tried to stay quiet.

Buried inside Adam, Dean stilled, rubbed his hands up Adam's back and down his sides. "You doin' okay?"

Adam nodded, pushed up onto his elbows. "Yeah. Just...Just let me..."

"Okay." Dean kept stroking Adam's overheated flesh, down his thighs and back up, hands skimming low across Adam's abs and belly. His right hand curled around Adam's half-hard dick and slowly started jerking him off.

"Oh, God," Adam breathed, gently thrusting into Dean's fist. The movement caused Dean's dick to pull from his ass just the slightest bit. He groaned.

"Feel so good," Dean said against Adam's back, pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss between his shoulder blades before thrusting back inside. He kept working Adam's dick in his hand, shallowly fucking into his ass.

Pain slowly became pleasure with every press of Dean's cock into his body. It wasn't long before he was pushing back. "Dean. _Shit._"

"Can I...?"

"Yeah." He braced himself against the mattress as Dean straightened behind him, his hands slipping back to Adam's hips as he pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back in, pleasure bursting through his body when Dean hit that spot deep inside him. "Oh- oh, _God._"

Adam was moving with him, with every thrust, rocking back into him and Dean just thrust harder. "Fuck, so good. You're so tight." He was so close already, wasn't going to be able to last much longer with the sounds Adam made, the way he moved his body.

"Harder. Please, just- _Please._" Dean had gripped his hips so hard, fingertips pressing into his skin, surely leaving bruises. Adam couldn't care, wanted his brother to leave marks, make him hurt, _feel._ And, in that moment, he did. Felt _everything._The heat and thickness of Dean inside of him, the stick of their sweaty skin when they touched and pulled apart, the throbbing of his blood through his veins.

Dean came hard, shuddering against Adam's body, hips stuttering as he filled his brother. With a moan, he slipped free from the tight heat of Adam's ass and flipped him over, shoving him down to the disheveled sheets. "Look at you." He knocked Adam's thighs apart, knelt between them as he leaned up to claim his mouth in a slow, dirty kiss.

Adam arched his body up into Dean's, tried to make contact, find friction; he was painfully hard, wanted to come so bad. His mind flashed back on that butterfly in his collection, orange and black wings of the Monarch spread wide and pinned down. Dean held his arms down in a similar way, hands clasped together near Adam's head, elbows pointing out, as they kissed. Then Dean slipped down his body, trailing bites and sucking kisses, lips wrapping around the flushed, leaking head of his cock at the end of his journey.

As he sunk all the way down, Dean slipped two fingers into Adam's abused, come-slick hole and pressed them against his prostate. Adam spilled into his mouth instantly, crying out his name. "So good, Adam," he said against his brother's hip before climbing back up his body and settling against his side.

"Mm," Adam agreed, pressing closer to the heat of Dean's body, tangling their legs together. "Can you stay a while?"

"Yeah," he said into Adam's hair. He had no intention of going back to his empty, lonely motel room just yet. He'd have to leave Windom soon enough.

"Can I see you tomorrow? After school?" Adam asked sleepily, tip of his nose grazing the underside of Dean's jaw as he shifted impossibly closer.

"I could pick you up," Dean suggested and pulled back enough he could kiss Adam. "We could hang out before you mom goes to work..."

"I _suppose_we could hang out."

Dean could feel Adam's grin against his throat. "Makes me think you just want me for sex."

Adam was silent for a long stretch of moments, not denying Dean's claim. "But it's really _good_sex," he finally said.

"It is."

"You know that's not all I want you for, right?" He got an arm underneath himself so he could lean up and look at Dean.

Dean skimmed his hand up Adam's side, fingers fitting between the ridges of his ribs. "I know."

Adam closed his mouth over Dean's. "Good."

Adam settled back against him and it wasn't long before his breathing evened out and he fell asleep. Dean didn't dare let himself nod off, couldn't risk the possibility of not waking back up before Kate arrived home. But he stayed for a couple more hours, just holding Adam, covered his brother up with the blanket that had fallen to the floor before he dressed and headed back to his motel.


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Beyond All Repair [7/?]  
**Author****:** alakewood  
**Warnings:** Slash (Dean/Adam). Spoilers for _Jump__the__Shark_ and _Born__Under__a__Bad__Sign._  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word****Count:** ~2500  
**Summary:** Dean takes Adam to St. Paul for his birthday – his gift is a little painful, very permanent, and will protect him from evil.  
**Disclaimer:** As always, I own nothing.

**oxoxo**

Adam spotted the Impala in the school parking lot easily from the front steps, tossing a goodbye to Danny over his shoulder as he made his way around the bus. Dean was leaning against his door, waiting, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, looking the perfect image of cool in his leather jacket. It took everything Adam had not to press close and kiss him. He grinned instead. "Hey."

Dean smiled back. "Hey, yourself."

Adam climbed into the car, tossing his bag over his seat into the back, tugging his seatbelt on as Dean got in beside him. "So, what time did you leave last night?"

Turning the keys in the ignition with one hand, Dean rubbed at the back of his neck with the other. "Pretty late. Before your mom got home, though." He backed out of the space, mindful of all the gawking kids, obeying the residential speed limit while he was on school property before pressing down on the gas a little harder to get away from the place that reminded him just how many years were between him and Adam.

Adam fiddled with a button on the sleeve of his jacket and looked up at Dean. "Would've been nice not to wake up to an empty bed."

"I know." Dean had woken to an empty bed that morning as well, but in a filthy motel room instead.

Fidgeting again, Adam glanced out the window. "You know...my birthday's this weekend. Dad usually took me to a baseball game, but I think the Twins are away this weekend. Maybe we could..."

Dean stopped for a stop sign and turned to face Adam. "Maybe we could, what?"

Shrugging, Adam let his gaze slide over to Dean. "Spend the night somewhere? I know you're probably not gonna be around long – if you're doing whatever Dad did, you'll be leaving soon."

Dean hadn't planned on sticking around as long as he had, that was true. He had things to work through with Sam and not a lot of time left before his deal came due in a handful of months. "Yeah. I guess we can talk to your mom about it." He continued through the intersection before the car behind him honked its horn in annoyance.

Adam kissed him hard at the next stop sign.

**oxo**

It had been surprisingly easy to convince Kate to let Dean take Adam up to Minneapolis-St. Paul for a couple of days – Adam stressed that he just wanted to hang out with his brother and and get to know him before he had to leave again like their father always did. However, when he argued that he could take care of himself, that he'd been doing it for years, Dean was a little afraid of what Kate's reaction would be. That she'd say 'no' and that would be the end of it. Instead, she'd looked resigned. "Fine," she said. "But be careful, okay? And be back by Sunday afternoon."

"Of course," Dean readily agreed.

And that was how he found himself down two hundred and fifty dollars for a room at a Holiday Inn for two nights. The rest of the week passed in a blur and it was suddenly Friday and then they were loading Adam's bag into the recently cleaned out back seat and saying goodbye to Kate. A three hour drive found them parked in a space in the parking garage next to the hotel, Adam nearly in Dean's lap and his tongue in his mouth.

After a minute, Dean pushed Adam back gently. "Why don't you save that for the room, huh?" He saw himself in Adam's devious smirk and ignored that little voice in the back of his mind that tried to tell him how wrong what they were doing was.

Adam grabbed his bag from the backseat and looked over at Dean. "They what are you waiting for?"

Dean followed him inside and quickly checked in with one of his illegally obtained credit cards.

The whole back wall of the elevator was glass and they watched the people below on the street during the ride up to their floor. As soon as Dean had pulled the key card our of the door and pushed it open, Adam had him pressed up against the wall, the light switch digging into his shoulder blade. "Tell me we're not leaving this room until Sunday."

Dean laughed, hands gripping Adam's hips and maneuvering him towards the king bed. "I thought you wanted to get to know me?"

"And your body doesn't count?"

Shaking his head, Dean groaned. It sounded like something he'd say. Hell, he probably _had_ said it. "Later. Let's go find something to eat."

With a sigh, Adam dropped his bag next to Dean's on the floor. "Fine."

Dean caught Adam by the belt loop when he started for the door and pulled him in for a long, slow kiss. "We've got all of tonight and all of tomorrow night to get to _know_ each other."

Adam bit Dean's bottom lip before pulling away. "I guess."

**oxo**

They found an Irish-style pub a couple blocks away from the hotel and ordered pizza and buffalo wings to share. Dean nursed a beer and Adam sipped at his soda while they waited for their food. "So...how's school been?"

Adam rolled his eyes. "It's been fine. Mom's happy that my grades are up."

"Good. They better stay up."

Adam traced a finger down the condensation on the outside of his glass. "I know." He licked his lips and flicked his gaze up to Dean. "Think you'll be able to make it for my graduation?"

Dean peeled at the label on his beer bottle and sat up a little straighter. "I don't know. There's-" He looked over at Adam then around the room. "There's a lot of stuff you don't know about me, Adam. I don't know where I'll be, then."

Adam nodded, wiped his fingers off on his jeans and leaned back in his chair. "Yeah."

There were so many things Adam didn't know, a lot of things Dean didn't want to tell him but things his brother probably needed to know regardless. Like his deal and how that was the reason Dean wouldn't be able to watch him graduate. But he didn't know how he was supposed to explain that. _See,__Sam__died__because__I__couldn't__protect__him__and__I__sold__my__soul__to__a__demon__to__bring__him__back.__My__year's__up__in__a__few__months__so__I'm__gonna__miss__your__graduation.__And__the__rest__of__your__life.__Sorry__about__that._ "I'll explain it to you later."

Adam didn't look at him, kept his gaze trained on the water rings on the table."You don't have to, Dean. Dad never did."

"Hey," Dean said, reaching over to put his hand on Adam's. "I'm not Dad, okay? It's not that I don't want to be there, because I do. It's just, a lot of shit happened before I even _knew_ about you and..." He shrugged. He couldn't change his past, couldn't change the future. He'd end up leaving both Sam and Adam alone.

The waitress interrupted them by dropping off their basket of wings. "Your pizza will be out in a few," she said to Dean with a coy smile.

Dean didn't even meet her eyes. "Thanks."

Halfway through the pizza, Dean started on his third beer. "Dad wasn't a mechanic," he said. "I mean, he _was_, a long time ago, but not for a while."

"I figured," Adam said, reaching for another slice of pizza.

"Dad- he was a hunter. Not like a wild animal hunter, but of evil things. Monsters. Stuff you don't even know exists."

Adam nodded, pulled a piece of Italian sausage off his slice and popped it in his mouth. "After you and Sam left that first time, I Googled all of you. Found a picture from a newspaper at the library in the archives. Mom said she met Dad when he was here for work but the picture showed him – I'm pretty sure it was him – at the cemetery. Somebody's robbed a bunch of graves and he was there."

Dean was a little surprised. "He was probably on a case."

"So, that's what you do, too? You and Sam? You hunt monsters?"

"Pretty much."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Yeah. It's kinda how Dad died."

Adam fell quiet for a while, wondered about something he thought he'd seen the night he'd met his brothers. "When Sam was untying me...his eyes were black. I mean _black_ black."

Dean pushed his beer away. "That wasn't really Sam. He was- he was possessed."

"By what?"

"A demon."

"What?"

"I know. It sounds crazy."

"Why?"

"It's trying to stop us from killing it and it's _father._ Look, none of this really has to do with you-"

"It came after me, didn't it?"

"Only to fuck with me and Sam."

"Well, it's still gotta do with me."

Dean had to concede to that, however, unwillingly. He didn't want Adam messed up in this mess. "I just- I don't want you involved in it. Okay? I'm not going to be able to protect you from it."

"Why not?"

Dean didn't want to talk about it there, raised a hand to flag down their waitress for the bill. "I don't want to talk about this here." He handed the waitress enough cash to cover their bill and pretty decent tip. "Keep the change." He pulled his jacket off the back of his chair and nodded his head towards the door.

Outside, Adam stopped Dean with a hand on his chest. "What's going on?"

Dean felt one of the horns of his amulet press into his skin, the smooth disc of the anti-possession charm beside it. Glancing down the street, Dean covered Adam's hand with his own. "If I ask you to do something for me, will you do it and let me explain why later?"

Adam shook his head in confusion, not following where Dean was taking the conversation. "What?"

"I need you to do something for me. Please."

So long as it didn't involve one or both of them leaving right then, Adam didn't see why not. "Okay."

"Okay." He took Adam's hand in his and led him down the street. A left turn on Forbes left them standing in front of a tattoo parlor. Dean ushered Adam inside.

"A tattoo parlor? Dean?"

"Trust me." Dean approached the receptionist and asked for Josh. They'd met a couple years ago when Dean was on a job in Wisconsin.

Adam waited a couple steps behind Dean as the receptionist went through a doorway and returned a moment later with a tall, tattooed guy behind her. His eyebrows went up and he grinned at the sight of his brother. "Dean? Hey, man!"

Dean shook Josh's hand and pulled him in for a half hug. "How're you doing?"

"Good, good."

"No more poltergeist problems?"

Josh laughed aloud. "No, thank God." He glanced over Dean's shoulder, reached his hand out. "Hey, I'm Josh."

"Adam," Adam replied, shaking the offered hand.

"I was wondering if you could do me a favor," Dean said.

Josh turned his gaze back to Dean. "Yeah, sure."

Dean pulled his necklace out of his shirt and showed Josh the charm. "See this symbol? I want you to tattoo it on him."

Josh looked at Adam. "Is he- nevermind. I've got an appointment in forty-five so c'mon back."

"You want me to get a tattoo?" Adam asked, mouth pressed close to Dean's ear as they followed after Josh.

"It's a protective anti-possession symbol."

Adam stopped in the hall. "So I'll be safe when you're not here."

"Right," Dean said, eyes meeting Adam's. "I don't want what happened to Sam to happen to you."

"Okay."

Dean led them the rest of the way down the hall to the doorway Josh went into. He pulled the leather cord over his head and passed it over to the tattooist.

Josh laid the charm on his drawing table and set to work sketching out the embellished pentagram. He held it up for Dean's approval. "Where do you want it? And how big?"

"Somewhere your mom's not gonna find it, huh?" Dean asked Adam, eying his brother.

"What about on my hip?" Adam pressed a couple fingers inside the pocket on his jeans.

"Maybe an inch or an inch and a half big," Dean said.

"Sure thing." Josh put the drawing into a copy machine and gestured Adam closer. "If you want to undo your pants and pull 'em and your underwear down, show me the spot."

Adam did as he was told, gaze locked with Dean's. He tapped a finger just inside the crease of his thigh a couple inches below his hip bone, the hickey Dean had left there still clearly visible.

Josh swiped something over the area and pressed the printed-off paper against Adam's skin, peeling it away carefully. "What d'you think?"

Adam turned and showed Dean, glanced at himself in full-length mirror on the wall. "I think it's good."

"All right. The climb up here for me." He patted the tattoo bed and set about pulling on a pair of rubber gloves.

Dean moved closer as Josh explained what he was doing, putting a sterile needle into the tattoo gun, the ink he was using, and so forth. He held Adam's stare as the needle started to buzz, watched the way his pupils dilated at the pinch of pain as Josh started tracing the design.

It didn't take long for Josh to complete the tattoo and he didn't charge Dean a dime for it. "I owed you one," he said, holding a hand up when Dean pulled out his wallet. "Just stay safe and keep doing what you're doing."

Dean shook his hand again. "Thanks, man." He corralled Adam out the door, led him down the block and around the corner, pressing him up against the side of a building when they'd reached a shadowed stretch of sidewalk between two streetlamps. "Does it hurt?"

Adam shook his head, arching his body into the warmth of Dean's. "Nope."

Dean's fingers found their way under the hem of Adam's t-shirt, traced the edge of the plastic wrap that covered the small tattoo. "Thanks for doing this for me."

"You're welcome." He leaned up to kiss Dean. "You're going to explain why I need this when we get back to the room, though."

"I know." Dean held Adam close and kissed him hard.


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Beyond All Repair [8/?]  
**Author:** alakewood  
**Warnings:** AU. Slash (Dean/Adam). Angst.  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Word Count:** ~970  
**Summary:** Dean finally comes clean to Adam about his deal. (This is one of the only plot points I remember from my mental planning way back then.)  
**Disclaimer:** As always, I own nothing.  
**A/N:** Quite a few people (or one person posting anonymously multiple times) requested a continuation of this WIP that kind of faded off into the background for me a year and a half ago. I've been pretty entangled with the J2 side of fandom and a lot of my old SPN WIPs fell by the wayside. I should be working on my Big Bang right now, but my muse refuses to cooperate. So, here's this.

**oxoxo**

Adam woke to a dark room and rolled over, tangling the sheet around his legs as he reached for Dean's side of the bed and found it cold. He stretched and leaned up on his elbows, catching sight of Dean standing naked in front of the open curtains, looking out the window, gorgeous and unashamed. "Hey," he said quietly, pulling the blankets towards himself. "Come back to bed."

Dean glanced over his shoulder before slowly turning away from the window and crossing the room, sitting on the edge of the mattress and sliding beneath the sheet. "Go back to sleep," he told Adam, voice gravelly as he settled himself along Adam's side.

"I will," Adam said, rolling over to wrap his arm around Dean's waist. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just thinking."

"I can see that," Adam huffed. "About what?"

Dean shifted further down his pillow and pulled the comforter up over the both of them. "There's something else I haven't told you."

"Are you leading a double-life with a secret wife and kids in Iowa or something?"

Dean scoffed and shook his head. "No. Um. A few months ago... Sam and I were on this job and he got taken by the demon that killed my mom."

"Sam- is he okay?"

"Yeah," Dean said, nodding, remembering. "Now, he is."

"What happened?" Rolling further onto his side, Adam braced his head on his hand, elbow bent and buried in his pillow.

"A lot. Short story, though, is... Sam, uh, Sam died."

Shocked, Adam gripped Dean's arm tight. "You just said-"

"I did. And he's fine. But I- to get him back, I had to- I had to make this _deal._"

Adam wasn't following, but there was a lot about Dean's life as a hunter he probably didn't understand. "What kind of a deal?"

"The same kind Dad made."

"But-" It was apparent there was _more_ than a lot that he was missing.

Dean laughed mirthlessly and rolled onto his back, pulling free of Adam's hold. "Man. Winchesters are just... we're fucked, man. Seriously. I've almost died more times than I can count. Should've _for sure_ at least twice. The last time, Dad made a deal – his life for mine. And that's what I did for Sam. But I got lucky."

"Lucky? How can you say-"

"The demon gave me a year. Dad got minutes."

Adam rolled away from Dean, needing the distance to try to take it all in. "So... if you got a year... How much time do you have left?"

"Like... seven months."

"And there's no way to stop it?"

"Not without something happening to Sam. And he's- as much shit as we've been through, he's all-" Dean bit at his lip and rubbed his hands over his face. "I can't risk it. He's my brother and it's my job to protect him."

"Even if that means you have to _die?_ Dean... that's crazy."

"Growing up, Sammy's all I had. I'm not turning my back on him, not with everything that's happened to him and not when I'm already living on borrowed time."

"Dean."

"I don't expect you to understand-"

"Good," Adam said, sitting up and scooting away from Dean, "'cause I don't."

"If you grew up like we did, maybe it'd make sense."

"So you're just gonna leave and do what?"

"Sam and me, we've still got work to do. There's still stuff out there that needs to be killed. There's still time to figure out-"

"Take me with you," Adam blurted. "You and Sam can teach me how to- how to hunt and I can help."

Dean shook his head and sat up, leaning back against the headboard. "No. You've gotta stay with your mom, graduate, go to college. Do all the things you planned to do before you ever met me."

"That's bullshit. You know that, right?" It was baffling, how they managed to end up in this place after the way their night had gone. He could still feel the dull soreness in his muscles, the empty ache inside of him, from the three rounds they went when they got back to the room after their stop at the tattoo parlor.

Dean shrugged. "Doesn't matter. You can't come with me. And there's no way I'm letting you get dragged into the kind of life me and Sam were raised into. It's not something you _choose._"

Adam huffed a laugh. "Why not? You and Sam-"

"We never had a choice. After our mom was killed, Dad tried to make sense of what happened, of what he saw. It changed him." He sighed. "You've got a really great life here. Maybe it doesn't seem like it all the time, but this is better. You just gotta trust me. You don't want to be a hunter. You don't want to live like me and Sam."

Adam gave a halfhearted shrug and laid back down, turning onto his stomach and crossing his arms beneath his pillow to keep himself from reaching out to Dean. "Whatever."

"I'm just trying to be honest with you. I'll try to make it back to see you before..." he trailed off. "But if I don't, I want you to know why." Dean rolled back over onto his side, settled a hand on the small of Adam's back beneath the blankets. "I'm sorry."

Adam stared back at Dean for a long moment before closing his eyes against the sight of his brother limned in hazy pink light that filtered in through the open curtains. "Me, too."


End file.
